


The Language of Green

by MarrowInTheBone



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aromantic, Dehumanization, Existential Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Language, Love, amatonormativity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 22:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15958691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarrowInTheBone/pseuds/MarrowInTheBone
Summary: Language doesn't understand me.





	The Language of Green

**Author's Note:**

> I am both surprised and unsurprised that there was already a character tag for the English language.
> 
> Also, hopefully this is at least halfway decent.

One could argue that though we invented Language, Language turned right back around and invented us. It's a relationship, ironically enough, where both mutually change and adapt and develop together. And therefore Language became a human being, the collective human being, just like we did.

Perhaps that is why I'm ambivalent about Language. I can appreciate the creativity and well-being Language can engender, like the person on the street who slips a ten in a charity bucket as they walk in a store or the kid who just performed slam poetry receiving uproarious applause. But then I see Language at its worst, driving some young kid to their premature death or ostracizing an entire people. I'm cautious of humanity, and therefore Language.

And yet I work with Language a lot, carting my thoughts to it to have them translated and transcribed. And if there's anything I've learned in my time with Language, it is that Language isn't necessarily a bad person; however, it can often misunderstand and assume.

Language doesn't understand me; it's confused by me, even, when I go up to it and present it with my more personal thoughts––the ones more harried and frazzled and searching desperately for expression. It doesn't understand, and it can only give me a single phrase.

“I love but I don't love.”

I'm aggravated by Language, how it can achieve such apparent contradiction and yet technical harmonization, how it messes with and blurs together generalization and specification, conflating the two. Love is supposed to be a broad term, encompassing romance, friendship, family, self, life, hobbies or what have you––and yet we're left with a confinement, a shrinking down, a hewing and hewing away until all that is left is bleeding red of what used to be an entire rainbow.

Language is meant to allow expression as concisely as possible, as _clearly_ as possible. A neologism, although a word, isn't yet Language because of this. But what am I to do when all I am left with is the Language of red when I want to describe green?

“I love but I don't love.”

It isn't Language.

_I_ am not part of Language.

So what am I?


End file.
